‘Fans of Robin Stevens will love The Tower Ghost, a cracking boarding school mystery ... a rollercoaster of a read!’
Sarah Webb, author of The Weather Girls and The Little Bee Charmer of Henrietta Street.
‘Hugely atmospheric and very immersive - the setting seemed to come to life as I read … deftly plotted and skilfully written.’
Sinéad O’Hart, author of The Time Tider and Eye of the North
‘Sure to be popular with readers who like an adventure with a dash of danger.’
Inis Magazine
‘If you have a Murder Most Unladylike fan at home, this book is a must.’
Belfast Telegraph
NATASHA MAC A’BHÁIRD is a freelance writer and editor. She is the author of many books for adults and children, including the Star Club series, and Shay Given and Sonia O’Sullivan in the Great Irish Sports Stars series. Her first two children’s books, Missing Ellen and Olanna’s Big Day, were both chosen for the White Ravens Collection. Natasha has always loved mysteries and boarding school stories, so she is enjoying writing a series that combines the two. Her first Sycamore Hill book is The Tower Ghost.To read more about Natasha’s books, you can visit www.natashamac.com
First published 2025 by The O’Brien Press Ltd, 12 Terenure Road East, Rathgar, Dublin 6, D06 HD27, Ireland. Tel: +353 1 4923333; E-mail: books@obrien.ie Website: obrien.ie
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in
Natasha Mac a’Bháird wishes to thank the Arts Council for the bursary that allowed her to research and write this book.
To my wonderful parents, Anne and Conall
Cast of Characters at Sycamore Hill
Staff
Sister Aloysius (principal)
Sister Frances (Irish, history and religion teacher and head of first year)
Sister Agnes (maths teacher)
Sister Eva (visiting music teacher)
Sister Mary Catherine (sewing teacher)
Miss Lavelle (English teacher)
Miss Andrews (art teacher)
Miss Brady (PE teacher)
Sister Monica (cook)
Sister Hilda (matron)
Rita Doherty (cleaner)
Bill Farrelly (caretaker)
St Anne’s Dormitory
Clare O’Neill
Rose Carlisle
Molly McBride
Nancy Gallagher
Beth Murray
Mary Walsh
Sinead Green
Christine Costello
Amy Meadows
Students
Other students
Niamh Kinsella (prefect)
Orla Donnellan (prefect)
Martha Kelly (sports captain)
Sorcha Green
Siobhan Green
Patricia Forrest
Colette Hughes
Kitty McLaughlin
Jean O’Donnell
Nora Brennan
Sally Anderson
Abigail Reynolds
Evelyn McGinty
Alison Ferry
Naomi Ferry
CHAPTER ONE
Clare had never seen Aunt Tess look so happy. In her knee-length white dress, with her chestnut hair swept up in a beehive, she was the perfect picture of a modern bride. But more important than her clothes or hairstyle was the beaming smile that had hardly left her face all day, as she greeted her friends and family, posed for photographs outside the church, and took her place at the top table beside her new husband Mick.
Now she was in Mick’s arms as he whirled her around the dancefloor of the Lakeside Hotel, watched by all their guests.
‘Aren’t they gorgeous?’ Marianne said with a wistful sigh. ‘Wouldn’t you like to marry someone like Mick, Clare? He’s so handsome, and he just adores Aunt Tess, doesn’t he?’
Clare smiled at her little sister. ‘They do look just perfect together,’ she agreed. ‘Oh, look at Louise, isn’t she funny?’
Louise, the youngest O’Neill girl, was twirling around and around the dancefloor, completely oblivious to everyone else. Her dress floated out around her, making her look like a fairy about to take flight.
‘I can’t believe she got to be a flower girl and we didn’t,’ Marianne grumbled.
‘Oh, we’re a bit too old to be flower girls!’ Clare laughed.
‘Well, you are,’ Marianne said. ‘I’d have been just fine.’
Clare thought eleven was really too old to be a flower girl too, but she let it slide. She and Marianne had both got new dresses for the wedding, and she thought they were very nice. Hers was in a deep pink that her friend Rose would say was very on trend right now. It went well with her long brown hair, which hung loose down her back, freed from its usual plaits. Marianne looked very pretty in a soft blue dress. ‘I don’t think Tess wanted a big fuss,’ Clare said. ‘One flower girl is a nice way to involve the baby of the family. Two or three makes it look like a much fancier wedding!’
Marianne refused to be placated. ‘She’s just showing off now!’ she complained, as Louise put her hands above her head in a graceful arch and pirouetted like a ballerina.
‘She’s just away in her own world,’ Clare said.
‘Isn’t that little flower girl a picture!’ gushed another guest, standing nearby.
‘Adorable!’ agreed her companion. ‘She looks like a little fairy princess!’
‘I’m bored,’ Marianne announced, getting to her feet. ‘Come on, let’s go and explore the hotel.’
‘All right,’ Clare said, a little reluctant to leave the dancing, but
not wanting to see Marianne become even grumpier with all the attention Louise was getting.
Clare was so glad she had been allowed to take a long weekend away from boarding school to attend her favourite aunt’s wedding. Tess and Mick had been due to get married when Clare was home at Halloween, but they had had to postpone the wedding by a few weeks. Mick was a garda, and his leave had been cancelled at short notice, something Tess was philosophical about. ‘Sure, what’s another few weeks when we’re going to be spending the rest of our lives together?’ she said. ‘Just as long as everyone can be there for our big day, that’s all that matters.’
Clare had been afraid that Sister Aloysius, the authoritarian, slightly terrifying principal of Sycamore Hill, would refuse her permission to go home in the middle of term and miss a couple of days of school. But she had written back to Mam to say that, given the special family circumstances, she would allow Clare to go, on condition that she made up for any missed work, and on the clear understanding that the O’Neills were not to make a habit of it.
In the hotel foyer, Granny was sitting in an armchair by the fire, deep in conversation with another elderly lady.
‘Don’t let her see us!’ Marianne hissed. ‘She’ll want us to recite a poem we learned at school or something like that!’
Clare shuddered. ‘This way!’ she said, ushering Marianne down another corridor before Granny could catch sight of them.
The Lakeside Hotel wasn’t very big, and the girls had soon covered all the ground floor.
Marianne wanted to go upstairs, but Clare refused. ‘It says guests only,’ she pointed out. ‘And anyway, there’ll be nothing up there but locked bedroom doors!’
‘Oh, all right,’ Marianne said. ‘I’m getting cold, anyway! Let’s see if Granny has moved away from the fire!’
Back at the hotel reception, the girls found a small crowd gathered around the receptionist’s table. Granny was there too, her comfy chair by the fire abandoned.
‘What’s going on?’ Marianne asked.
‘Shhh!’ Granny hissed. ‘We’re listening to the radio! Someone has shot President Kennedy!’
‘Oh my goodness!’ Clare said, leaning in closer to try to listen.
The receptionist, a daughter of the hotel owner in her early twenties, was fiddling with the volume on the radio. Suddenly a booming voice filled the room.
‘It is my sad duty to inform you that the White House have confirmed that President Kennedy died at approximately 1pm today, Dallas time. He died of a gunshot wound to the head.’
Clare gasped, pressing her hand to her mouth. Granny and the other women began blessing themselves, muttering words of prayers for the president’s soul. The receptionist said, ‘I can’t believe it – I just can’t believe it’, shaking her head as if she could make the news disappear.
‘What’s going on?’ Mam came out of the ballroom, her smile fading away as she saw the stricken faces all around her.
‘Oh, Mary – it’s President Kennedy. He’s been assassinated,’ Granny said, tears running down her face. ‘May the Lord have mercy on his soul.’
‘Oh my,’ Mam said, blessing herself too. ‘What a terrible thing to happen!’
‘Mam – we can’t let Tess find out,’ Clare said urgently. ‘She adores the Kennedys – just like Rose.’ She thought of the photos of the beautiful couple that Rose had pinned up inside the lid of her desk. The American president, John Fitzgerald Kennedy, was a popular figure in Ireland, but it was really his stylish young wife, Jackie, who Rose admired for her fashion sense.
Sister Frances had scolded Sinead for displaying a photo of Elvis Presley, but had merely nodded at Rose’s Kennedy collection. They were almost like a royal family to their Irish followers. Granny had a photo of President Kennedy on her mantelpiece too, beside one of the Pope.
But Tess had actually met President Kennedy on his visit to Ireland the previous summer. She worked as an air hostess, and was in Dublin Airport on the day Air Force One landed, an event that caused excitement through the whole country. Tess hadn’t expected to meet him, but JFK, as everyone called him, had stopped to shake hands with some of the staff as he passed through the airport with his entourage. Ever since then, Tess had
been a devoted fan. Mick often joked that he was glad JFK was married already or Tess might have tried to run away with him!
‘You’re right,’ Mam said decisively. ‘We don’t want to put a dampener on their big day! They’ll be leaving for their honeymoon in an hour – we can surely keep it a secret until then.’ She spoke to the receptionist, who was wiping her eyes. ‘Turn off that radio, will you? We must think of the happy couple! And the rest of you, keep it to yourselves, all right?’
Clare had rarely seen Mam speak so authoritatively to a group of adults. She might rule the roost at home, but in public she was much more reserved. But she was so keen to protect her sister’s special day that she thought nothing of telling the other guests exactly what to do. Luckily, they seemed quite content to obey, even Granny, who sank back into her armchair with a little moan, pressing her hanky to her face. ‘That lovely young man! It’s a crying shame, that’s what it is.’
‘It certainly is,’ Mam said. ‘I think you’d better stay out here, Mam, since you’re so upset. We don’t want Tess to see you and wonder what’s wrong.’
Granny sniffed. ‘I’m quite all right out here anyway, thank you. That music is far too loud.’
‘Can we go on back in to the dancing?’ Marianne asked anxiously, afraid they were going to be left minding Granny.
‘Go on ahead, the pair of you,’ Mam said. ‘Stay near Tess, and keep an eye on anyone who looks like they’re only dying to be the
first one to tell her the news. You know what people can be like!’
Clare and Marianne escaped thankfully. The waltzes had finished and the band were playing a Beatles song. Tess and Mick were still in the middle of the dancefloor, their faces flushed with exertion and happiness as they danced away, surrounded by their friends.
‘This is more like it!’ Marianne said. ‘Come on, Clare, let’s dance!’
All too soon it was time for the newly-weds to go and change into their going-away outfits.
‘Go out to the reception and make sure the radio isn’t on,’ Clare whispered to Marianne. ‘I’ll stay near Tess and try to stop anyone from saying anything!’
Marianne dashed off, delighted to be engaging in a secret mission.
‘Clare, did anyone tell you you look as pretty as a picture today?’ Tess said, kissing her eldest niece on the forehead. ‘Look how tall you’re getting – you’ll soon be passing me out!’
‘Do you want me to come and help you with your hair and everything?’ Clare asked.
‘That would be lovely,’ Tess said. ‘I don’t know where Geraldine’s got to!’ She looked around for her old school friend who was her bridesmaid. ‘Probably off chatting up the best man!’
‘Why don’t I come up to the room with you, and then I can look for her?’ Clare suggested, thinking that would be a good way to make sure no one else got near Tess.
The hotel had set a room aside for the bride and her bridesmaid to get changed. If Clare could just get her there, she felt she would be safe.
But getting Tess out of the ballroom was no easy task. Everyone wanted to stop and talk to the beautiful young bride, offering words of praise or jokey advice about married life.
Marianne came running back in and said ‘All clear!’ to Clare in a stage whisper. Clare frowned at her to be quiet. She’d never make it as a detective like Clare and her friends!
She was glad to see that Tess hadn’t heard her, as she was listening politely to a neighbour who was recounting all the details of her own wedding twenty years earlier. Clare wished the neighbour would get to the point – Tess was beginning to look a bit stressed, and Clare knew she was thinking about the time.
‘I’m sorry but we’ll have to go,’ Clare finally said. ‘Tess and Mick have a long journey ahead!’
‘Thanks, Clare,’ Tess whispered as they hurried out of the room. ‘She’d have stood there chatting all day!’
In the foyer, Granny had a little group gathered around her, heads close together as they talked in awed voices about what had happened in America. They were so absorbed in their conversation that they didn’t even see Clare and Tess go by. Clare just hoped Granny would get herself together enough to wave Tess and Mick off.
Safe inside the hotel bedroom, Clare felt relieved to have
got Tess that far. She helped her with the zip on her dress, and admired the pink skirt and matching jacket Mam had helped Tess choose as her going-away outfit.
There was a knock at the door. ‘Hello?’
‘That sounds like Geraldine,’ Tess said, moving towards the door.
‘Is Mrs Breslin here?’ the voice said.
‘No, she’s … oh wait. That’s me!’ Tess burst out laughing. ‘I thought of Mick’s mother when I heard that name!’
She let Geraldine in, with much teasing about where she had disappeared to with the best man.
‘Sure I was only being polite,’ Geraldine insisted. ‘Isn’t it the bridesmaid’s duty to be friendly to everyone?’
‘Oh, is that what you call it?’ Tess said.
‘Come on, let’s get you downstairs,’ Geraldine said. ‘That husband of yours will be wondering where you’ve got to!’
Clare helped to pack up the last few bits and pieces. Mam and Dad would take Tess’s beautiful wedding dress home later. Tess and Mick were heading off to Connemara for their honeymoon.
‘And it’ll probably rain for the entire week, but we won’t care!’ Tess said.
Mick met Tess at the top of the stairs and took her hand. The wedding guests had gathered in the foyer to wave them off. They formed a line to the front door of the hotel for them to pass through.
When they reached the end, Tess turned around to throw her bouquet. Clare wasn’t surprised when Geraldine dived forward and caught it neatly, to squeals of delight from their other friends.
‘Better watch out, Jim,’ Mick joked to his best man. ‘Come on, Tess! Let’s hit the road!’
Clare breathed a sigh of relief as the car drove off. Tess had had the magical day she deserved. She knew that they were bound to discover the news during the next few days, but at least it hadn’t cast a shadow over their happy celebrations with their family and friends.
‘Well done, Clare,’ Mam said, putting her arm around her shoulders. ‘I already knew you had the makings of a detective, after you and your friends solved that mystery of what happened to that poor girl in your school all those years ago. But now I’m thinking that if you don’t want a career in the gardaí like your new uncle Mick, you might make an excellent spy instead!’
CHAPTER TWO
Clare looked out at the driving rain, trying to make out where they were. At last a road sign told her they were just coming into Whitecastle town. In the dark the familiar buildings – the library, the sweet shop, the newsagent’s, the parish hall – looked abandoned. There were no signs of life in the town on this wet night.
‘Everything all right?’ Dad asked. It had been lovely to have a long weekend at home so she could be there for Tess’s wedding. Already that world seemed to be receding into the background, as she got closer and closer to school, and her friends.
‘Yes, just thinking about the wedding,’ Clare said. ‘It was so lovely, wasn’t it? I can’t wait to tell Rose and Molly all about it.’ She knew Rose, in particular, would want to know every detail about what Tess and her bridesmaid had worn, what Clare and her sisters had worn, and what music they had danced to.
They were coming in to the avenue at Sycamore Hill now, and Clare was pleased to see the school all lit up, looking warm and welcoming on this cold night. She remembered how awestruck
she felt the first time she saw the school, looking like a castle on the side of a cliff overlooking the sea. Now it was so much more familiar to her – somewhere she belonged.
Dad pulled up outside the front door, turned off the engine and went to step out of the car.
‘You don’t need to come in with me, Dad,’ Clare said quickly. She felt shy at the thought of all the attention she would get for coming back to school at this time, when everyone else was going about their normal Sunday evening routine. Dad walking her all the way in as if she was a small child would only make it worse.
‘Of course I need to come in,’ Dad said firmly. ‘Can’t have those nuns thinking I’d just drop you and run! Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you!’
Clare groaned to herself.
Dad got Clare’s suitcase out of the boot and led the way up the steps. Clare trailed after him, hoping all her class were safely upstairs in the dormitory.
Sister Aloysius came out of her office at the sound of the bell and greeted them both. ‘Hello, Mr O’Neill. Welcome back, Clare. I hope everything went well with your aunt’s wedding?’
‘Yes, thank you, Sister,’ Clare said. ‘We had a lovely day.’
‘It was Friday, wasn’t it? The same day dear President Kennedy died, Lord rest his soul.’ Sister Aloysius blessed herself, managing to shake her head sorrowfully at the same time.
‘That’s right, Sister,’ Clare’s dad said. ‘We had a hard time
keeping the news from the happy pair, I can tell you. We didn’t want anything to spoil their day. But thankfully they got off on their honeymoon safe and sound.’
‘Good to hear,’ Sister Aloysius said. She turned to Clare. ‘Now, it’s very late, so why don’t you say your goodbyes and run away up to your dormitory, there’s a good girl. You’ll need a good night’s sleep before lessons tomorrow so you can catch up on whatever you missed. Mr O’Neill, can I offer you a cup of tea before you drive home?’
‘No, thank you, Sister,’ Dad said. ‘I’d like to get on the road. Be good, then, Clare! I’ll see you in a few weeks.’
He leaned in to give Clare a hug. Suddenly remembering how hard she’d found it leaving Dad the first time she set off for Sycamore Hill, Clare held on to him tightly for a moment. She was glad she no longer felt so lonely at the thought of being away at school.
She made for the stairs, turning to wave goodbye before hurrying off to her dormitory. She was dying to tell Rose and Molly all about the wedding.
CHAPTER THREE
Amy’s mind was a jumble of competing emotions. She had wanted to go to boarding school since she had first started reading the books – The Twins at St Clare’s, First Term at Malory Towers, The School at the Chalet, Autumn Term. She longed to be part of that world. She would make so many new friends. They’d have fun hanging out in the dormitory, planning midnight feasts, whispering secrets. She’d get to try out lots of new sports – she loved the idea of playing for a team. Maybe she’d even be really good at it. She could almost see her classmates standing on the sidelines cheering for her as she scored a goal.
So many times she had begged her parents to let her go, had shown them brochures she’d written away for, thought of answers to every objection they could raise. When the new job opportunity had come up a few years earlier and meant a big move for them all, Amy had suggested this would be the perfect time for her to go to boarding school. But yet again the answer had been no – they didn’t want her to be away from them, they’d miss her too much. She’d dreamed of the day they might change their minds and say, guess what, we’ve made a decision, you’re off to boarding school!
But it wasn’t meant to be like this.
Every time she thought of what had happened to make them change their minds, the fear surged up in her again. How was she meant to live with this? How could she start a new life, make new friends, be herself, with that knowledge always in the back of her mind?
‘How are you getting on, honey?’ Mum asked, coming into the room carrying a pile of Amy’s clean laundry.
‘I’m having a hard time deciding,’ Amy admitted, showing Mum her beloved books spread out on her bed. ‘How many do you think I can fit in?’
‘Oh, don’t bring more than three or four,’ Mum said briskly. ‘Your case isn’t very big. And anyway, there will be a library in the school. You will be able to borrow books from there.’
Her face softened as she saw Amy’s downcast expression. ‘Why not take this one?’ She picked up The Twins at St Clare’s. ‘It was always your favourite. And a couple of others. It will be nice to have some old friends with you, won’t it? But you will be so busy making new, human friends that you won’t have time to miss your books! And before you know it the year will be over, and you’ll be packing up to come … well, you’ll be packing up, and you won’t want to have too much to carry.’
Amy grimaced. She knew Mum had just stopped herself in time from saying ‘come home’. None of them knew if Amy would be coming home – if home would still be the same place.
‘Let’s come back to these,’ Mum said, putting the books aside.
‘Have you decided which pyjamas you want to bring? Oh, not that pink pair, they’re getting too small, and there’s a rip in the elbow! The school will think we don’t look after you properly! How about those blue flowery ones? And then you’ll need a dressing gown, of course …’
Mum began folding up Amy’s things, determined to keep busy to try to take her mind off the fact that she would soon have to say goodbye to her little girl.
Amy wandered over to the window, looking out. She would miss this view. But most of all she would miss her family, and the sense of safety and security she felt being around them, because somehow she knew that that feeling was gone for now, and maybe for a long time.
CHAPTER FOUR
Clare was surprised to find the dormitory in a state of chaos. The girls were standing in the middle of the room. Molly and Mary were already in their pyjamas. Rose and Sinead were still fully dressed, while Nancy, Christine and Beth were somewhere in between. All seven of them seemed to be in the middle of a huge argument.
‘What’s going on?’ Clare asked.
‘Oh, Clare, you won’t believe it,’ Rose burst out. ‘Sister Hilda says one of us needs to move to one of the second-year dormitories! There’s a new girl starting and they want to put her in here!’
‘Oh, no!’ Clare said.
‘She’s given us ten minutes to decide,’ Molly said miserably. ‘But no one wants to move!’
Clare was very glad she had arrived back when she had. Imagine if they had decided that, since she wasn’t there, she could be the one to go?! But even as she thought it she knew Molly and Rose would have stuck up for her – just as she would for them.
‘Why don’t you move, Nancy?’ Sinead put in suddenly. ‘You’re always acting so much more grown-up than everyone
else, you should fit right in.’
Christine sniggered, but everyone else looked at Sinead crossly. Nancy flushed. ‘I suppose I could move, if you all think I should,’ she said.
‘Of course not!’ Clare said. ‘You’re our class prefect. Sinead probably just thinks that if you moved, she’d get to be in charge!’
‘Well, you can forget that, Sinead,’ said Rose. ‘If anyone tried to put you in charge of us we’d immediately have a mutiny and get you thrown out of office.’
The others giggled at this, and Nancy looked relieved that no one else seemed to think it was a good idea. ‘What are we going to do, then?’ she asked. ‘Sister Hilda is expecting someone to volunteer.’
‘Let’s ask her to put the new girl in the second-year dormitory instead,’ Rose said. ‘What difference does it make to her? She won’t know anybody in either dormitory anyway.’
‘I suppose Sister Hilda thinks it will be hard for her to settle in if she’s in a different dorm from her class,’ Clare said. ‘But it does seem pretty unfair that one of us has to move!’
Just then, Sister Hilda appeared in the dormitory. As the school matron, she took charge of the dormitories, and she was a strict, no-nonsense type, though rumour had it she was always kind to those who were ill. This evening, she looked quite hassled with the unexpected change to arrangements. ‘Well, girls, have you reached a decision?’
‘No, Sister,’ Nancy said.
Sister Hilda tapped her foot impatiently on the floor. ‘Well, I did think one of you would be kind enough to volunteer! This is a difficult situation, and you’re not making it any easier, let me tell you.’
The girls looked at the ground, not daring to meet Sister Hilda’s eyes.
‘Sister, wouldn’t it be easier to put the new girl in the second-year dormitory?’ Rose said at last. ‘It would save all the trouble of one of us moving. It’s all new to her anyway, so what difference would it make to her?’
Sister Hilda’s black eyebrows shot up almost to the edge of her white wimple. ‘Miss Carlisle,’ she said slowly. ‘Are you really having the cheek to question how the dormitory arrangements are made?’
Even Rose the fearless seemed to shrink back under the force of Sister Hilda’s glare. ‘No, Sister,’ she murmured.
‘I should hope not!’ Sister Hilda snapped. ‘I am surprised at you being so unfeeling to the new girl. It will be difficult enough for her starting in the middle of the school term, without having to get to know a different set of classmates and dormitory companions, don’t you think?’
‘Yes, Sister,’ Rose said.
Clare had an awful feeling that Sister Hilda would decide Rose could be the one to move, but Sister Hilda seemed to have some
mercy. She glanced down at the dormitory sheet in her hand. ‘Well, since none of you have had the decency to volunteer, I will select a name at random.’ She made a great show of closing her eyes and stabbing at the sheet with her pen, before opening them again to see where it had fallen.
‘Christine Costello,’ she barked. ‘You’re the chosen one, I’m afraid. Now it’s almost bedtime, so the move can wait until tomorrow. You may come up and pack up your things at breaktime. Ask a friend to help you.’
Christine appeared to be too shocked to speak, but Sinead had no such problems. ‘But Sister, why does Christine have to move? Her family have always been in St Anne’s dormitory, haven’t they, Christine? Your sisters, and your mother too …’
‘And what has that got to do with the price of butter?’ Sister Hilda demanded.
‘I’m just saying, why couldn’t someone else move?’ Sinead persisted. She looked around the room and her eye fell on Molly. ‘Why don’t you move Molly?’
Molly gasped, and Clare gave Sinead an indignant look. How typical that she would pick on the shyest member of the dormitory!
‘Miss Green,’ Sister Hilda said. ‘You will go back into your cubicle this minute and finish getting ready for bed, before I decide to move you instead of Miss Costello. I certainly do not require any of your help on the dormitory arrangements, thank
you very much.’ She turned back to Christine, who was looking very downcast. ‘There is space for you in St Teresa’s dormitory –Kitty will show you your cubicle.’
‘Yes, Sister,’ Christine murmured.
‘Now, I expect you all to make the new girl very welcome,’ Sister Hilda said. ‘That will be all. Get on with your preparations for bed. Lights out in five minutes.’
Clare felt sorry for Christine. She would have hated to move dormitories at this stage of the school year.
‘I can help you pack up your things tomorrow if you like,’ she offered.
Christine seemed to be about to accept, but Sinead came barging over. ‘I’ll do it, of course! She’s my friend, not yours!’
‘OK, OK,’ Clare said, raising her hands in the air and backing away. ‘Just trying to help!’
She went to her cubicle and changed into her pyjamas at top speed. She met Molly and Rose on their way to the bathroom to brush their teeth.
‘Poor Christine!’ Molly whispered.
‘Maybe she’ll be glad to get away from Sinead,’ said Rose, unperturbed.
* * *
Next morning, Sinead tried to convince Mary to move dormi-
tories instead. ‘Don’t you have a cousin in second year?’ she said. ‘You could ask to be in the same dormitory as her?’
Mary, who was not very good at standing up for herself, didn’t know what to say, but Christine herself stepped in.
‘Leave it, Sinead,’ she said. ‘No one wants to move, it’s just my bad luck that it landed on my name. I’m sure it will be fine – we’ll still see lots of each other!’
‘It’s so unfair,’ Sinead muttered, stomping back to her own cubicle to finish getting dressed.
‘Hurry up, everyone!’ Nancy said. ‘I’m sure it must be nearly time for the – oh.’
The bell rang just as she finished her sentence, and there were squeals of alarm from the girls who hadn’t finished dressing. Clare looked around for Rose, who was always late even on a good day, to find her trying to zip up her skirt, her blouse all bunched up.
‘Let me,’ Clare said, taking the zip for her.
‘Stupid uniform,’ Rose muttered as she did every morning, attempting to straighten her tie while Clare did her skirt. She grabbed her jumper, pulling it over her blonde curls as they rushed to join the line at the door where Molly was waiting, looking as neat as usual, her red hair well brushed and gleaming.
At breakfast in the refectory, Clare looked up and down the first-year table to see if there was an unfamiliar face there, but it seemed the new girl hadn’t yet arrived.
‘Isn’t it strange to have someone starting in the middle of the
school year?’ Clare said quietly to Rose and Molly. ‘November is a funny time to move schools.’
‘Maybe she was meant to be starting with us in September but she was sick at the start of term and needed time to recover?’ Molly suggested.
‘Maybe,’ Clare said. ‘But then, wouldn’t a bed already have been assigned to her when we started in September? This feels very rushed.’
‘I think it’s very suspicious, actually,’ Rose said, spreading a thick layer of marmalade on her toast. ‘I think we might be looking at another mystery we need to solve.’
Clare laughed. ‘Oh, I doubt it, Rose. But I’d love another mystery, wouldn’t you? I think we did a great job of solving the mystery of the tower ghost.’
‘I wouldn’t want another one,’ Molly shuddered. ‘I’m still not over what happened last time! It was terrifying!’
‘Oh, I’m not talking about that sort of mystery,’ Rose said. ‘Trying to find out why there was a ghost in the tower above our dormitory and solving a murder that happened decades ago – I mean, a mysterious new girl is hardly the same sort of thing. But it could be something interesting, all the same!’
‘I do like being detectives, and figuring out clues, and all that,’ Molly admitted.
‘Let’s see what happens when she gets here!’ Rose said.
CHAPTER FIVE
The first class of the morning was Irish with Sister Frances. Their motherly, kind year head was normally calm and smiley, but Clare thought she seemed a bit flustered that morning.
‘Come on, girls, take your seats quickly, please,’ the nun said, squinting anxiously at the clock. ‘I’ve something to say to you before we begin.’
‘I told you,’ Rose whispered to Clare. ‘Mysterious!’
The girls hurried to take their places and looked expectantly at Sister Frances.
‘We have a new girl arriving today,’ the teacher informed them. ‘Her name is Amy Meadows, and I want you all to make her feel very welcome. It’s not easy to start in a class a few months into term, where you all know each other so well, and have been through quite a lot together. So do be kind and make sure to involve her in your activities.’ She hesitated, as if she was about to say something else but had thought better of it. She turned to Nancy. ‘Nancy, please make sure she has all the books and stationery she needs.’
‘Yes, Sister,’ replied Nancy promptly.
‘And Sister Hilda will have spoken to you about the dormitory arrangements, I think,’ Sister Frances went on.
‘Yes, Sister,’ said Nancy again.
Clare glanced at Sinead, wondering if she would again raise an objection to Christine being moved, but Sinead stayed quiet, though her annoyed expression said plenty.
‘Very well, then,’ Sister Frances said, seeming relieved to be finished with the subject. ‘We will return to our lesson on Caitheamh Aimsire.’
Clare found it hard to concentrate on the vocabulary they were learning to discuss their hobbies, wondering when the new girl would arrive. But the bell had rung for the end of Irish and they were halfway through religion, also with Sister Frances, before there was a knock on the door.
Clare sat up straighter. All eyes in the class turned to the door as Sister Frances called, ‘Come in!’
Niamh, the senior prefect in charge of St Anne’s dormitory, stepped into the classroom. ‘Excuse me, Sister Frances, but Sister Aloysius asked me to bring the new girl, Amy Meadows, to you.’
‘Thank you, Niamh,’ Sister Frances said briskly. ‘Do come in, dear.’
Niamh opened the door wider, and a girl followed her in, her head down and shoulders hunched, as if she wanted to make herself as small as she possibly could.
Clare was surprised to see that she was wearing an ordinary jumper and skirt.
